


Night Watch

by Trefoil_9



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Babybones (Undertale), Dadster, Domestic Fluff, Family, Gen, Good W. D. Gaster, Insomnia, father dadster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trefoil_9/pseuds/Trefoil_9
Summary: TheBombDiggity666's Dadster can't sleep. Sans can, ironically.





	Night Watch

Gaster turned over for what felt like the fifteenth time. Would lying on his side make things somehow better? No. What about the other side? No. He reverted to lying on his back and found himself staring angrily at the ceiling. This was useless. He got up, quietly. Papyrus was a light sleeper.

Why couldn’t he sleep? It had been a few days since Sans’ adventure. Sans was feeling well enough to sleep alone, and the pain shouldn’t be bothering him still, he’d given him something and anyway he’d be asleep by now—unless that was it? Was he having some kind of magical parental intuition? Rubbish.

He poked his head into Sans’ room anyway, just to make sure. Aside from the fact that Papyrus had crawled in bed with him, leaving a trail of his toys across the floor on the way—he needed to make sure those got picked up in the morning—nothing was wrong. He quietly closed the door, which Papyrus had left open, and considered going back to bed. He felt wide awake and almost hungry. He should get himself something, then go back to bed and hope for the best. …What? He wasn’t really hungry, more thirsty. But he didn’t want water. Scotch? No, that was stupid. He had standards and those standards did not include drinking alone in the dark at two in the morning, or whatever time it was by now. Tea? That was better. Tea was calming and easy on the stomach, just what he needed. He padded down the stairs and, as silently as he could, filled a pot with water and put it on the stove. Then he waited. At least now he was doing something other than flopping around in his bed like a beached salmon. The flames reflected darkly from surfaces in the unlit kitchen, and he felt the warmth seeping through his turtleneck.

He drew a hand across his face, and his fingers caught in the crack that ran through his cheekbone. He rubbed it reflectively.

It seemed they weren’t going away, and neither were the feelings behind them. He held his hands near the flame.

Sans had been traumatized, Papyrus had been traumatized, Gaster had had his face split open and was definitely traumatized. But they had lived. They had talked about it, then they had stopped talking about it. It didn’t seem to have bothered Papyrus much since. He was at a resilient age. But Sans had evidently never stopped thinking about it. Sans didn’t talk about what was going on in his head. But it seemed that it could be a dark place in there.

Gaster rubbed his warmed hands over his face and breathed deeply.

The water was steaming. Hot enough. He turned it off, realized that he couldn’t see, and searched for teabags with his eye glowing to provide light. He found one and put it in a mug without trying to read what it was, then poured the water over it and smelled the steam. Lemonbalm. He carried it to the table and sat, stretching his arms out in front of him. He felt suddenly tired. Good. He rested his head on the table while the tea steeped, then began sipping it slowly.

There was a light sound from the direction of the stairs. Looking over, he first saw the pinpoints of light in Papyrus’ eyesockets, then the rest of him pattering forwards through the darkness.   
“What are you doing up?”   
“You’re up!” said Papyrus.   
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep.”   
“What’s that?”   
“Tea.”   
“Can I have some?”   
“Sure.”   
Gaster lifted Papyrus onto his lap and watched him spill two thirds of a mouthful down his pajamas and one third into his mouth.   
“Is it good?”   
Papyrus considered, putting the mug down.   
“Meh.”   
“Mmph. Give it to me then.”   
He finished the tea quickly and carried the mug to the sink.   
“Alright, it’s time for both of us to go back to bed.”   
“I’m sleeping with Sans!”   
“I’d rather you didn’t, you could bump his arm.”   
“I wouldn’t! I’d be careful!”   
“Not while you’re sleeping. And the pain medicine will be wearing off now, we don’t want to wake him up.”   
“I won’t!”   
“How about you sleep with me?”   
“Hm. Okay!”   
“Right, then. And don’t switch as soon as I’m asleep.”   
“I won’t.”   
“Good.”

For the second time that night, Gaster lay in his bed with his eyes open. But there was a pleasant, lingering warmth in his bones, and a heavy feeling that signaled approaching sleep. Papyrus stretched once like a cat, curling his back, then relaxed, head pillowed on Gaster’s arm and back pressed against his ribcage. Outside, the unchanging dark of the Underground wrapped the house. Gaster listened. It was perfectly silent. He closed his eyes. 

**A/N: Wordy flashfic fanart for[BomDiggity66](http://thebombdiggity666.deviantart.com/). Takes place after [Don't Have to Hide.](http://thebombdiggity666.deviantart.com/gallery/59569952/Don-t-Have-to-Hide) **


End file.
